


The Moon and The Sky

by Punk_in_Docs



Series: Loki: God of Mischief and Sex... [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Beaches, F/M, Feelings, First Love, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Late at Night, Loki in love, Love, Love Confessions, Masturbation, Moonlight, Music of Sade, Neck Kissing, OC, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Reader-Insert, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Sade Song, Sex, True Love, Un-named OC - Freeform, Voyeurism, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, red wine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-07
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2019-03-28 09:30:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13901172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Punk_in_Docs/pseuds/Punk_in_Docs
Summary: The prompt is this; It’s midnight and you’re home alone. You’re having trouble going to sleep because you’re feeling hot and bothered. So, you decide to take off your clothes and start touching yourself. You close your eyes and imagine your hands are Loki’s. One hand playing with your breast and the other one playing with your clit. A soft moan escaped from your lips at the touch. Unaware of his presence, Loki appears in your bedroom and immediately he likes what he sees. The covers partially reveal your nakedness, and thanks to the moonlight, it highlights the right spots. Loki’s clothes disappear within seconds and he approaches your bed. “Loki,” you moan his name, your eyes still closed.“Say it again,” Loki climbs onto your bed, being careful by not putting his weight on you, he gets on top of you with one leg on each side.... (Original imagine is longer)(Here we go. I'm at it again. Inspired by imagine taken from imagine-loki.tumblr.com)





	The Moon and The Sky

**Author's Note:**

> It’s midnight and you’re home alone. You’re having trouble going to sleep because you’re feeling hot and bothered. 
> 
> So, you decide to take off your clothes and start touching yourself. You close your eyes and imagine your hands are Loki’s. One hand playing with your breast and the other one playing with your clit. A soft moan escaped from your lips at the touch. 
> 
> Unaware of his presence, Loki appears in your bedroom and immediately he likes what he sees. The covers partially reveal your nakedness, and thanks to the moonlight, it highlights the right spots. Loki’s clothes disappear within seconds and he approaches your bed. 
> 
> “Loki,” you moan his name, your eyes still closed.
> 
> “Say it again,” Loki climbs onto your bed, being careful by not putting his weight on you, he gets on top of you with one leg on each side. 
> 
> “Loki…” You say his name again. He watches you for awhile. You start fingering yourself like there’s no tomorrow. Your breathing becomes shallow and sweat forms on your skin. Your moans are erotic. 
> 
> Loki leans down forward, his mouth just inches away from your ear.
> 
> He whispers your name and then he says, “Open your eyes.”
> 
> You do just that and there he is. You blink your eyes a few times to get a clear view of the man in front of you. Loki puts on his cocky smile and says, “Did you miss me?”
> 
> I was inspired by this wonderful song when writing this fic. (https://youtu.be/rLZ1U_n8fDg) The Moon and the Sky by the beautiful Sade. (I am in love with her) I just think it captures the mood of this. So perfectly. What more can I say?! Hope you Enjoy.

 

You stand alone, in the night air. A long sigh leaves your body. A slow, drawn out sound of contentment. It drifts out from between your lips, spirited away, off into the night. The view you’re gazing out across now, is _incomparable_. You are stood on your private balcony, gazing out across the fine view of tumbling sand dunes, the dune grass tumbled and whipped in the casual ruffle of the cool, midnight breeze. The scent of salt, and sun baked sand _tantalised_ you.

You idly wonder what swimming in that fathomless blue ocean would feel like right at _this second._ Engulfing your almost naked body in the cool, salty waves might _soothe_ the swelling fever in your skin.

Everything is tinted azure blue, so it is impossible to tell where the sea begins and the sand ends. You can _just about_ pin-point it, knowing the view as you do, more familiar to you than the back of _your own hand._

The moon hangs high, and astoundingly _bright_ in the sky, sending its beams to skip across the sea, twinkling back at you across the small crashing waves like a thousand diamonds. The cool, night, summers air caresses over your skin like the _fine touch_ of your lover. Setting goose bumps tingling along your bare arms. You close your eyes, briefly, and let the air _fuss_ over you. _Combing_ through your hair, _kissing_ your eyelashes. The strands of your hair _tickle_ at your shoulders.

You feel so sensual here, now. _Beautiful. Desirable_.

Despite the serenity of your calm surroundings, you _can’_ t ignore the busy energy of your body, though your mind is _begging_ for rest, for _peace_ , for _sleep_. You can’t seem to ignore your impulses. Your thoughts turn briefly to that of _your lover,_ and you can’t fail to notice how that makes your abdomen _clench with need,_ and your nipples, through the  fabric of your soft, white, nightgown, _pucker harder_ with your oncoming arousal.

You softly bite your lip, opening your eyes once more. Taking in the cerulean, moonlit vista before. The cool, smooth wine glass in your hand, you lift to your lips, and sip. Downing the last few dregs of it. Feeling the fruity, _velvet bouquet_ settle on your tongue. You take a deep breath after you swallow the fine wine, feeling the rich taste slide tantalisingly down your throat. The rush of it making your head light, and blood warmed through with intoxication, along with something _deeper_. _Energetic_. Something more… _carnal._  The cool breeze is starting to get the better of you, and you fold your spare arm across your body. The cold now _plucking_ at your exposed skin like the brush of cold needles.

You regard this before you as _the_ finest view in the world. Yet somehow, without _him_ , behind you, his strong arms secure around you, it seems as if it has been _found wanting._

You _long_ for the steadiness of his strong, muscular torso behind you. Feeling _his_ ribs expand and shrink with each breath. You miss the subtle hint of _his_ cologne permeating your senses. Of his warm skin, of the silky brush of his hair. You crave the feeling of that sharp chin, _unshaven_ , dragging its scratchy bristles down your soft neck, _with those soft lips too,_ smiling his love on your skin as he _knew_ what his lack of shaven face did to the erotic zones of your bare neck. He liked making _that scruff_ cause burn marks to the pure softness of the insides of your acutely _soft_ thighs, or the round curve of your shoulder. Your heart _sinks_ a little when you ponder over his absence, but deep down, _you knew_ however much you wanted him here, he’d want to be here a _thousand_ times more passionately. _Admiring you, his perfect, sensational lover, in moonlight._

He _couldn’t believe_ his luck, in having _you_. Among hundreds of perfect, strong, admirable specimens of men, and you had chosen _him_. He felt _honoured_ to be yours, as you felt to be his. Where he was from, _he assures you_ , men would lay waste to cities, move worlds, and fight _wars_ to be your partner. To see your _bare form. To love you_. To be _your lover_ , why, they would _die_ for an honour such as that. But you couldn’t _care less_ for armies of men vying for your honour. You’d only ever want one. _Only him. Always only him_.

He _completed_ you. Made you _ache_ with hunger in a way you _never knew_ you could ache, for another living soul. He made you _come alive_ in his arms. You felt so intrinsically, _inexplicably,_ bound to him. Not just by lust, but by love too. Though for tonight, you don’t dwell much on feelings of love. _Lust was commanding all your attention._

Turning on your bare feet, you pad across the cool tiles of the balcony, and re-enter your bedroom through the wide, balcony doors. The gossamer white curtains drifting on the breeze. Heading back into the muggy, dry, heat of your bedroom - warmed all day from the sun shining in on it – you place the wine glass down next to the half empty bottle on the side dresser. Slowly running your hand along the smooth, wood polished surface afterwards, feeling the coolness of the furniture under your fingertips.

You turn, and go back to the large terrace doors, opposite the huge, white expanse of your _big, soft_ bed. The big, soft bed, that felt _impossibly wretched_ to be in without his, your lover’s, warm body, devoid of clothes, soundly slumbering next to you. You pull the doors inwards, stealing one last look at the _gorgeous_ moonlit beach. The curtains settle with the lack of wind to fuss with them. You watch out of the window for a second, your hand touches it, _chills_ shooting through your hand when you touch the cold pane of glass.

You hope, _beyond hope_ , that he would be back to you soon. You miss his _touch_ , _his lips, his skin_ against yours. A swelling need blossoms through your blood for him. _You knew if he were here,_ he’d be wrapped around you right now. His hands, cupping your soft skin, _always so ardently appreciative of your beauty_.

He’d map you out with his kind, warm, gentle hands and groan softly in your ear, his moans of pleasure. _Those_ moans, and sounds he made, which make your spine wrack _with desire_. He’d roamed your skin with his bare hands, a hundred times, and he will do so _a hundred,_ _thousand_ more. _Yet_ , each time he does it, it’s as if it’s the _first_ time. The way you react to his touch, he _can’t get enough_ of. The way you _sigh_ his name, the way your eyes flare then darken with arousal. The scent of your perfume on your lust-flushed skin is enough to drive your pragmatic lover, _feral._

You stride across to the bed. The wine warming your blood. You suddenly notice how your body feels near _feverish_ , skin flushed with heat, that even the cooling night air _could not_ dissipate. You feel your chest and cheeks burn _red_ with heat. You cannot be sure if it is from the wine, or your impending state of arousal. You feel flushed from head to toe. And decide that you needed to _do something_ about it.

There, standing beside your bed, noticing the large mirror across the midnight blue room, cloaked in a shaft of moonlight, you _bare yourself..._

Your fingertips nudge the straps of the nightgown down, looping at your upper arms, your hands go to your ribs, and push, forcing the gown down over your hips, gliding down the curves of your legs, pooling on the floor. Your nipples prickle taut in the exposed air, as your slick sex dully _twinges_ with need. Almost _throbbing - yearning_ \- to be dealt with. _Now_. You are _naked_  

An erotic thought crosses your mind as you peer at your reflection in the mirror. With your nipples puckered tight the way they were, you wanted _his hot mouth here, on them_. Kissing between them, as you thread your fingers through the back of his dark hair, feeling his breath hot on you as he _moans openly_ on your skin. His teeth gently playing with your aroused flesh. You’d throw your head back and sigh a moan. _Possibly his name._ Meaning his big hands would tighten their hold on you, hearing you, _so prettily,_ audibly announcing _his ownership over you_ , as he hungrily nibbled at your perfectly sumptuous nipples. Sliding his long fingers to curl _deep_ in your wet sex, drawing, _pumping_ , in and out, rubbing a sure circle over your clit as his tongue repeats the motion of his fingers, on your chest.

Opening your eyes when you feel your pussy wantonly shudder with desire, _clenching, craving_ attention. Your arousal evident in the way your thighs shone in the moonlight. You regard your aroused state in your reflection for a second. Your skin feels now _impatient_ , your body busy with lustful thoughts, wanting to sate _this need_ you had for him. Feeling slight resentment and disappointment that he wasn’t here _with you._ Putting that aside, you pull the covers back, and climb onto the big bed to slip between them. They are thin, as it was summer, and the way they glide temptingly, dipping over your curves  as you lay on your side, makes you feel so sensually alluring.

_It makes you feel as captivating as your lover always promises you truly are._

The cotton sheets feel uncomfortably cold against your blazing skin. Though _so very soft_ and indulgent. And you hope once you settle, shutting your eyes, that the longing will fade. _But it won’t._ _It is as ferocious as your love for the man who causes it._

Your hair, silky and fragrant, is fanned out beneath you on the large, comfy, clean and crisp bed linen. You open your eyes, and stare for a second at the moons light striking across the ceiling from the terraced windows adjacent to you. There may have been a comforting breeze floating across the room. But you felt _so hot,_ bothered, and your nerves were _fizzing_ with sexual energy, under your skin. Your toes curl and you know you _have_ to submit to this heady, urgent need. _Your body was calling out, crying, for one thing…_

Swallowing, almost nervously, drawing the covers down, you leave them to settle at your waist, your hand slips slowly along your belly, skimming past your navel, when you come to the softness of your inner thighs, you’re amazed to hear yourself _whimper_ lightly at your _own touch._ Your head tilts back, sinking into the pillows further as that very same hand cups your cleft, your own fingers parting your slick lips, and rubbing gently, applying a steady circular motion to your clit. _Like he does,_ you find yourself thinking.

Your moans grow _breathier, louder,_ as you continue pleasuring yourself. Your eyes start to flutter, and your hips press up from the bed, meeting the shallow rubs of your hand, grinding up against your own strokes.

Your back arches off the bed, and your free hand yearns to find something, _to do something._ Unable to ignore how your nipples were _so hard,_ they were almost _painful_. One hand encloses around your breast, and your groan of resounding pleasure shatters the sounds of the sea, and the night air around you. You roll that aroused nub of flesh between your fingers, feeling it send sensations of _bliss_ on waves to _power_ through your body. You continue the slow, _circling_ assault on your clit. Uncaring for the wetness, the essence of your arousal, that readily _flows_ from you, onto the unsullied bedsheets below. _You didn’t care about that now,_ you could only focus on the _hard knot_ of energy in your abdomen that was clenching up tighter, and tighter inside you. You needed it to grow, spreading wider through your body, before it shattered and engulfed you in the mind-numbing pleasure _you knew_ you _needed_.

Your legs are _trembling_ now, your ample thighs shiver with the sexual onslaught.

Your moans choke in your throat as you rub faster on your clit, unable to believe how _wet_ you were, how _good_ it felt to play with your breast this way, the resulting pleasure you got from toying with your nipples was astounding.

 _You thought it was only him who could tease pleasure out of you in this astonishing way._ You’d have never have guessed that enough longing, and succumbing to the caress of your own hands, could _ever_ stimulate a _similar_ result.

Your moans are _unrelentingly_ steady now. They come tumbling out before you can stop them. Deep, throaty sounds of your satisfaction echo off into the dark, empty room. If you thought your skin was warm before, it was positively _scarlet_ with heat now. You could feel it evident on your chest, in your cheeks. Your face burning _bright_ as you stroked, teased, and fondled yourself closer into that _much needed_ orgasm.

You hear yourself moan _to god,_ and then _to him_. Images of _the two of you_ danced behind your closed eyelids.

You imagined him to be here, with you. You imagined it was _his touch_ that was making you sigh. You wanted it to be _his_ mouth scorching hot against your neck, your body _arching, writhing_ up to his own as he loomed over you. His talented, long fingers rubbing your drenched, taut clit. Purring his benedictions into your ear of how _beautiful_ you are. How _prettily_ you suffer pleasure. How he’s _so utterly jealous_ of his fingers being pressed to a place his mouth _so badly_ wants to taste. _His longing_ to feel you come undone, your ravenous sex sucking _hungrily_ at his fingers as he sinks them _deep_.

You think of _his body_. And how there wasn’t a _vain bone_ in said body. _He didn’t see it as you did, and perhaps the same could be said for how you viewed yourself._ _You were too humble, he’d say_ , when he was ready to place you on a golden pedestal and bow in _worship_ to your form. He was _utterly enchanting._ You’d _never seen_ a person more erotically alluring than him. What astounded you is that he was _so frustratingly unaware_ of this.

His body was lean, and angular. He had the most _gorgeous_ , powerful, long legs, and his pert ass you found your hands digging into _often_ , forcing him _to fuck_ you _deeper_. His back you could _write sonnets too_ , were you any kind of decent poet. Bare, pale skin, beautifully built, those _sharp_ shoulder blades cutting out of his shoulders like a knifes edge. That strong, dependable torso that you had lain your head against _so_ many times. His smile was wide, and white. A smile that could be a _million_ things. Soft, or caring. Or wide, filthy, sexy _, ravenous_. The one that made your knees _weaken,_ eyes that could pierce through your skin, and read inside _your head,_ you were positive. _He knew your every thought. Every feeling._

His eyes were the first thing that had captivated you. They burned bright, blue and blazing. And you felt _scorched_ and _breathless_ every time he had so much as _gazed_ at you. You loved when you were abed, with him, dragging your thumb along his _sharp_ cheekbone, then up over his jaw, stroking through that obsidian hair that made him paler. You’d cup his jaw in your hand, and he’d gaze at you in that _tender, wolfish way of his._ Stroking his own fingers to comb through your hair. He usually did it before he _kissed you. You’d learned._

Giddy with thought of him, your body grew needier. You rubbed _faster, harder_ now. Thoughts of him spurring on your lust. The covers now, you felt, had slid to your thighs, _baring_ your body to the ransom of the moons light that covered you, as you writhed and bucked on the bed. _Your skin not missed by an inch of it._ It illuminated the wetness of your thighs, the sweat that was beginning to bead down the centre of your body. On your brow, near the back of your feverish neck, a curl of hair stuck to your skin. Your brow was dewy with perspiration. Your enflamed cheeks and chest radiating heat from your body.

Unbeknownst to you, you had _a voyeur_ to your private session of pleasure.

He had been treading noiselessly up the stairs to your bedroom, when he’d heard you choke on a groan of pleasure that slipped out of your pretty mouth. He’d paused where he was, his eyes blowing wide with arousal, his ardour stirring. _He’d know your erotic moans of pleasure anywhere_.

His eyes look desirous, staring up the staircase to your open bedroom door. He moves as quickly, and as silently as a _shadow_. Rounding the doorframe, the sight awaiting him in your bed makes his now throbbing erection become _painfully hard in an instant._

He surveys the moonlit bedroom. He spots the empty glass of wine next to the bottle, on the far dresser, smirking, thinking of you drinking as you _awaited_ _him_. He wets his lips, seeing the curtains drifting on a slight breeze. But when he _see’s you_ on the bed, moaning, _naked_ and _writhing_ under the strains of you touching yourself. _He pauses_.

His body suddenly became _unable_ to intrude upon you. He watches silently from the doorway. His hand _aches_ to touch his hardening cock, to relieve some of the infernal _need_ that seeing you like this, _did to him_. He decides against it. Instead, slowly stepping into the room, his hands reach for his shirt buttons. One by one, he undoes them, silently throwing his crisp white shirt across the back of the armchair by your dressing table.

He almost blows his cover, and groans, _loudly_ , when he see’s the covers slip away from your legs, giving him an unhindered view of your perfect sex. _Drenched. Dripping_. _Just how he liked it. He had to restrain himself from stalking across to you, taking your thighs in both hands, wrenching them wider apart, hauling you down the bed to him, before jamming his tongue into the wet chasm you were so loudly exploring. Wallowing in the phenomenal, addictive taste of you, and your wetness, as if he wished to drown in it._

He watches your fingers circle your _gorgeous_ , taut, pink clit, rubbing and toying as your thighs shivered and shook. His cock twinges when he watches your hips buck up into your hand. He wet his lips again, wanting _more than anything_ , for that to be _his own hips_ you were rising up to meet.

His finger hooks in the button of his trousers, nudging it open, he undoes his fly, slowly, and lets the trousers drop from his hips to his feet. He’d divested himself of his shoes and socks when he entered the house, so as not to wake you when he trod on the wooden floors below. He kicks away the trousers, worrying about the soft scuttle they made slipping across the floors. His eyes are fixed on you, and he notices with hunger, that the slight sound didn’t even cause you to _falter_ , in your attentions.

You continued, _unfazed_. _And oh, how he drank in the sight of you like this…_

His hands fight _not_ to stroke himself, to relieve the arousal that was getting harder and harder to ignore now. His fingers hook into his underwear, and that too skims down his legs, and joins the floor, and he is _as gloriously naked_ as you. He didn’t want to pay attention to his needs. He only wanted to pay attention to _you_ and _yours. You looked so perfect, groaning and writhing in stark moonlight._

And then, you whimper _his name. Oh, he nearly loses it at that._

Your eyes are closed still, head thrown back on the pillows, hair sticking to your face with sweat. Your flushed chest heaving, those _beautiful breasts_  pushed high with the arch of your back. One hand still clamped around your left breast, toying with the pert nipple. _He salivated,_ biting his lip into a smile he wanted that _hot peak_ of yours in his mouth. He wanted to suck it, lick it, kiss and _bite it_ and hear you groan, _shrieking_ his name as your arched your back _more_.

He was at the bed now, his own chest heaving, much like yours. He climbs onto the big, soft, white bed beside you. His erection _was painful_ now, he knew he’d need stimulation too _, soon. But for now…_

 _“Say it again.”_ He smirks, his voice no more than a hoarse, _husk._ Deep, rich and sinful. His voice was another thing about him you _adored_. You _loved_ to hear him talk, listening to him explain _long. Complex_ things. You loved it even when he spoke in anger, _though never to you_ , you loved it when he _purred_ things into your hair, near your ear, when he took you from behind. When his voice was _breathy_ and his tone _eclipsed_ under the weight of both your orgasms nearing. He crawled near you, careful not to let his skin touch yours. Looming over you, his legs bracketing you as he held himself up on his arms.

You did. Groaning it, _his name_ , a _gain._ As he had ordered you too. Moaning afterwards, his teeth sunk painfully into his lower lip, almost drawing _blood_ , as he watched you start curling your fingers deep inside yourself, he was close enough to be able _to hear_ the wet, sloppy sounds each tug of your fingers caused. Pressing, curling _deep_ , flicking against the aching patch of your g-spot. The sheets beneath your beautiful cunt, were drenched. _Sopping wet,_ he was pleased to see. Your breath was twice as shallow now, and he could see the sweat on your skin. _You’d clearly been at this a while… he thinks. Good girl._

He could watch this _for hours,_ your perfect hands plunging two fingers _deep_ into the heart of you. He could see your walls trembling, about your own fingers. _Your poor little clit looked so sensitive and swollen_. He longed to _kiss it_ with his lips, to _ease_ its suffering.

If you aren’t _the most erotic_ sight in the world, _then he didn’t have eyes_. He ruminates to himself. Watching you as you hand left your breast, and curled into the bedsheets beside you. His eyes followed your every move. _You always did that when you grew close._ He ponders. _You did it when he was inside of you, fucking you_ _to within an inch of your life._

His eyes are now flickering from place to place to watch _every part_ of you. The pretty flush on your chest, the sweat gliding gown your ribs, easily glimpsed in the moonlight. He watches your mouth gape wide, in a soundless gasp of pleasure as you pump your fingers deeper and harder. He can smell _the delicious_ essence of you, _your arousal,_ _hot and sweet_ in the air. That taste that makes his tongue salivate to take a _taste of his own_. He _can smell_ your skin too. Your flushed skin sending out waves of your perfume. _Your scent_. One he recognised as uniquely, _yours._

 _He couldn’t help himself_. He could sense how close you were, and he wanted, so desperately, to _touch_ you. To _feel_ you under him. _Kiss_ you _. Anything_.

He arcs over you, resisting the urge to kiss you, as his face hovers near yours. The first thing you sense is the subtle aroma of his cologne, and the heat of his skin near you. You dismiss it. _Maybe you were thinking about him fucking you so vividly, you began to actually imagine him here. Little did you know…_

 _“Open_ your eyes.” He commands, breathily moaning in your ear. His breath disturbing your hair.

Your eyes sprang open, and your chest heaved. _He was here._ He was on top of you, as naked as you. _As aroused as you_ , you feel, when his hips press into yours. You wet your lips, and lifted your head to look at him.

You swallowed cautiously, taking a moment to pant, gasp and return to earth. Down from the dizzying, _heated heights_ of your self inflicted pleasure. You merely look up at him. Eyes dark, mouth open. _Frozen_. _Too turned on to think properly, respond properly, to his being here._  

You see desire, _painted so evidently_ , across his handsome face, as he wears that cocky smirk that you found both infuriating and _astoundingly sexy,_ his chest was near yours, and you realise, now, you are actually, _shivering_ , with the _need_ to orgasm. You can _smell_ him, his skin, you can _feel his heat. And it is intoxicating._

“Did you _miss me?”_ He smirks. His lashes shuttering his eyes as he scans up and down your naked body.

Your fingers paused where they were _inside_ you. He notices this, that, and the fact you seem reluctant to carry on now _he’s here._ His eyes rest on your navel, and he smirks wider. _Oh. He won’t have that..._

He sits back, on his knees, and reaches for your hand. His cock _twitches_ with the slick sound that shatters the silence as he pulls your fingers from your sex. You let out a long suffering groan as he lifts your hand to his mouth and places _, those two fingers_ , onto his tongue. And closed his mouth around them. Keeping eye contact with you as he _sucked_.

_The bone deep groan that rumbled through him was enough to make your nipples even harder._

You savoured the sight of him licking your arousal off your hand, he licks _between_ your digits, then turns to you with a smile, his lips _wet_ and _red._ He sensually _licks_ his lips after he drops your hand down to the sheets, after kissing the back of it. _Getting every drop, you think._

Your chest heaves, and there is another second of eye contact, before he shakes his head, _quite unable to believe the delicious sight of you like this is **all his.** _ Then, he is _all over you_.

His body collides with yours, feeling those hard, pebbled nipples of yours _rub_ his bare chest. He _growls_ , and grabs for handfuls of your hot skin. His mouth over yours, kissing you _so passionately_. His arm comes under your head, holding your neck as he kisses you _deeply_. You both groan when you can _taste_ yourself on his tongue. He folds your thighs over his hips, controlling where you went. Your clit aches, as it rubs against the long shaft of his _more than amply sized_ cock. Hard and smooth, as you feel him _rut_ his hips against you. You arch into him. Grabbing around his smooth back, the other tangled in his silky hair as he kissed you, tugging you into him. Roughly dragging your body to press into him.

He breaks the kiss, his breath _hot_ against your lips, before he is on your already scorching neck, kissing, sucking marks there, _biting_. You arch your hips into him, and without a _seconds_ notice, one hand goes to his thick cock, and he strokes himself, kissing your neck all the while, he lines himself up with your sopping chasm, and nudges himself fully into you with one, smooth, _single thrust._

Unable to believe _how good_ it felt, after being denied the need to cum for _so long._ You throw your head back, groaning for him again. He takes the opportunity to suck, and bite at your exposed throat. Making you grab the pillow above head for support. He lunges in and out of you, feeling you _thick_ with wetness, _so tight, it was incredible, always so tight for him. You were the finest thing he’d ever had the pleasure to fuck. He never wanted to be without this. The lust for you was almost too much, it was all he could do each day to ignore it. His love, too, that was impossible to resist, as were you._

His thrusts become _carnal._ He links one of your legs to stretch up onto his pale shoulder, driving himself _deeper_. Each deep thrust from his long cock is like a punch that knocks the air of you from inside. Each one gathers sparks, to shoot through your veins. You can feel _that knot_ in your abdomen once again. His hands roam, trailing across your body, up your thigh, across your hip, watching your skin ripple with each thrust as he fucks you _hard_ and _thorough_.

He leans down, abandoning holding your thigh over his hip, and his hungry mouth takes your nipple into his mouth. Tugging on it with his teeth, the sharp pleasure that causes to plough through you is _unbelievably_ potent. You lean up, unable to _help it,_ leaving a series of deep, _angry_ , garnet coloured nail marks all down his back. _That only spurs him on_. He smirks, releasing your breast from the torment of his mouth. He _attacks_ the side of your neck instead. He purrs dirty words to you, making your gut clench, knowing your release _wasn’t far off_ now, and neither was _his_ , you could both _taste it._

“ _You’ve missed this, don’t deny it. You’ve missed me fucking you like this. Me filling you up when I cum, marking your neck with my teeth. Oh, my darling. you’ve no idea how much I crave you. Crave this. The feel of you, the taste of you_. _The shape of your exquisite body. No one but me, will ever have you like this…”_ He promises onto your neck as you rutted, grunted and _fucked_ like carnal animals.

 _Sweating_ and _groaning_ together in a primal manner, though the catalyst for it was driven _by nothing_ but _the deepest,_ most ardent love the both of you had _ever felt._ Your connection was _so deep._ _So powerful,_ it was the stuff that could move mountains, shake worlds. It was the things poets wrote about, the kind of love that _marred_ you, body, and soul. _You were certain his was the name that was scored on your heart._

He gathers you close, wiping your hair from your sweaty face as he watches you, and you him. He cups you close for a kiss, his thrusts having lost all rhythm now. His fucking you was _frenzied_ now, he gasped your name against your lips. Both your skin was flushed, your hand pressed to his chest, feeling his heart _rage_ in his ribcage.

He covers your hand with his own, linking your fingers through his. Looking down at you as he watched you _arch_ up to meet each thrust for a few seconds. You were perched _so close_ to cumming now tears leaked from your eyes as you bite your lip. Unable to be _without your lips,_ he claims your mouth like a feral animal, you whimper into him at his roughness, _loving it_ , his hands are pressed flat to the bed either side of your head, as he gives his last few keening thrusts. You _sob his name_ into his mouth, he swallows your groans as you come so _powerfully, beautifully undone_ together. More hot tears leak from your eyes as he rides out the last few spasms of his pleasure, emptying deep inside you. _Yet another part of you he’d so wholly claimed._

Your orgasm was _so vast, so powerful_ , that it knocked the breath from your lungs. And left you gasping his name _long after_ he stopped moving.

He came to a slow stop, chest heaving, eyes bright. He was sweaty and flushed too. _Gorgeous._ You think. Reaching up to comb your fingers through that onyx mane that you so loved. He crawls low to you, still inside you, slanting his mouth onto yours, his fingers swirl patterns onto your blazing skin.

You wrap your legs around him, feeling his cock nudge deeper into you. _Still hard_. His hands caress up your ribs, cupping your breasts. His breath cools your sweaty skin, and you hold him _close_ , feeling him pull away to kiss your forehead, then the tip of your nose, and then your lips once more. _Your lips were pliant, and addictive,_ he thinks with a smile.

When you ask why as to his sudden, small smile. He chuckles, levering himself off you, he pulls out, and you gasp at the _rush_ of your orgasms slicked to your thighs, his eyes _flare_ as he watched the evidence of him dribble out. _You both knew he’d be back there later. Teasing you awake with his clever tongue_. He swallows, and comes to sink into the bed beside you, kissing your lips once again. When he pulls back, he touches a soft fingertip to your mouth. Stroking along your lower lip as you smiled.

“I smiled because I can’t look at someone so beautiful as you, _and not, smile_.” He explains. Folding his body to nestle comfortably next to you. Stroking his fingers to dance across your dewy temple.

“My need for you, is a lust, a _hunger_ in my skin, that _never settles_ …” He whispers, kissing your neck, so you could not _only hear_ , his words, _but feel_ them too. You close your eyes, still feeling like the worlds _most desirable, supple woman._ But _twice as so_ , at the look in his eyes that blazed for you.

_You would never be without this man, nor he, you._

He cradles you close, his hands skimming your body until you shut your eyes, feeling his chest against yours, and his breath in your hair. _Deep, slow_ sounds of his breathing urge you to sleep. And you hear him speak before you both drift off. His finger brushed against the cool, silver ring that sat on the fourth finger of your left hand. _The one that matched the one he wore._

“I’d _pull in_ the stars, and lay them at your feet, for you, _my love.”_ He whispers. You sleep. Knowing that this man desires you, _for always,_ and that _you, are loved_.

 

 


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